On the Inefficiency I Noticed While Working in a High-Rise Office

Slave of the High-Rise

I work as an office worker.

When I was young, I grew up in the countryside and worked in a blue-collar job. Back then, driven only by ambition, I was a spirited—no, ignorant—person who would boast, 'Someday, I'll work in one of those tall offices.'

Before long, I gained experience and skills, and my job change was a success. I feel like I used to walk with a swagger, much like Patrick Bateman from 'American Psycho.' Looking around, the young corporate warriors generally have the same look. No, that includes me, too.

The tenants include major real estate firms, consultancies, trading companies, and law firms—industries that seem to have distilled stoicism down to its essence. Fortunately, I am in a profession that doesn't fall into those categories, so I am still in one piece. Everyone there has an aura that suggests they could take you down in a single blow if it came to a one-on-one fight.

The Otherworld Known as Lunch Break

Usually, everyone is full of bluster, wearing a face that says, 'I'm the one running this company.' The backlash to that manifests clearly during lunch break.

I apologize for the crude talk from here on out. Those who are uncomfortable with this section, please skip it.
The stalls in the men's restroom are full on every floor. It's not as if everyone is pooping simultaneously. If they were just playing on their phones, that would still be cute. Some are even eating in there. You can even hear crying or groaning. It's quite the chaos.

The Closed Space of High Floors

Because high-rise offices are high up, you can look down on the city. However, it is difficult to distract yourself from the air or the noise. Honestly, I feel better having lunch outside.

The structure of each floor, stripped of redundancy and homogenized, slowly confuses people. Whether on the 60th floor or the 3rd, the interior is almost identical. It's also hard to tell what's happening in the world below.
That eerie uniformity creates a sense of restlessness.

Recent large-scale warehouses are the same; the pantries, restrooms, and elevator halls are all identical, like a 'Kintaro-ame' candy bar. Even though they should be convenient and clean, they are somehow eerie.

In addition, the change in air pressure is more noticeable than you'd think, leaving a strange sensation in my ears. For someone like me who suffers from migraines, this takes a subtle toll.

Inefficiency in the Name of Efficiency

Let's talk about efficiency, too.

The elevators are always crowded. It's common to have to let one go because it's full. Due to rising prices and land development, lunch is expensive. It takes time to get to the designated smoking area, so it's hard to call it a 'relaxing hour.'

On top of that, you have to navigate lunch while considering workplace relationships. If you're not careful, it starts to feel like how you spend your break is more important than the working hours themselves.

Remembering Lunch Breaks in the Countryside

When I worked in the provinces, I could take a nap in my car or just wander out. Choosing a cheap set meal at the company cafeteria was also truly healthy.

For those who aren't good at constant social interaction, who are soft-spoken, or who like being alone, that environment was surprisingly kind. At least, more so than it is now.

A conclusion without a punchline

There is no real punchline.

If I were a business owner and in a position to set up a company, I would not choose a high-rise office for the sake of vanity. I would prefer a lower floor where I could get down to ground level at any time.

I believe the travel time lost on high floors is definitely an opportunity cost.

——Thinking about such things, I am waiting for the elevator again today, just as I do every day.